


The Heart Can Wait

by RaeDMagdon



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Eating out, F/F, Fingering, First Time, Gentle, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Penetration, S5E12, Sappy, Tender - Freeform, Trans Adora, Trans Female Character, before the final battle, handjobs, loving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27287491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Instead of running away, Catra shows Adora how she feels before the final battle for the fate of Etheria.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 552





	The Heart Can Wait

**Author's Note:**

> I actually love the way the show went, with Catra running away before realizing her mistake. Wouldn't change it in the show. And yet, this AU was in my head and when a friend asked for it, I had to write it.

When Adora wakes up, Catra is gone. The spot where she’d fallen asleep, curled close to Adora’s hip, carries lingering traces of warmth, but she’s nowhere to be found. Only the threadbare cloak she’d been using as a blanket remains, abandoned in a heap on the floor.

Adora sits up.  _ Where did you go, Catra? Did something happen? What if…  _ She rubs her eyes and stands. Going through all the what-ifs will only worry her more, and it’s too soon to panic. There are plenty of things to worry about without throwing a missing Catra into the mix.

The first order of business is to check the rest of their makeshift camp. Adora tiptoes as quietly as possible. Glimmer is fast asleep with her head in Bow’s lap, snoring loudly. Bow’s head lolls back against a crate, eyes closed and mouth wide open. Their other companions are gathered into shadowy bundles, catching a few fitful hours of sleep before the final battle against Horde Prime.

Still, no sign of Catra.

Adora slips outside, shivering as the cool night air blows through her thin jacket. The Whispering Woods isn’t a friendly place, but it’s beautiful at night. The bases of the tree trunks glow with purple fungi and the rustling of wind through the leaves is almost soothing.

Nothing seems out of place. Adora frowns in frustration. Catra might have come this way, but she can’t be sure.  _ She didn’t run away, did she? No. She wouldn’t. Not after everything we’ve been through…  _

On impulse, she stops beside a large tree trunk with low, sturdy limbs. It reminds her of certain towers Catra used to perch on back in the Fright Zone. A slow smile replaces her frown as she looks up, sensing what she’ll find. Yes, there’s Catra’s silhouette, slightly blurred by tree branches, but unmistakable against the pale moonlight.

“Hey, Catra.”

Catra leaps down, landing on the fallen leaves below with only the faintest of crunches. “Excuse you.” Her mismatched eyes flash in the dark. “That’s my line, dummy.”

The knot in Adora’s chest loosens. Seeing Catra alive and well is a relief, even though that’s likely to change when the sun rises. “You were gone. I got scared.” She rubs the base of her neck. “I thought you might have run away…”

Catra averts her eyes. “I’ll be honest. I thought about it.”

Adora licks her lips. “But?”

Catra’s eyes narrow, snapping back to Adora’s. Her outline practically bristles. “Someone has to look after you, don’t they? Otherwise you’ll do something dumb and—never mind.” She wraps her arms around herself, turning away.

“What do you mean, something dumb?” Adora juts her chin forward in defiance. “I’m doing everything I can to save Etheria.”

“Would you stop with the stupid hero act for one fucking second?” Catra uncrosses her arms, brandishing a clawed finger. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Destiny has literally marked you or whatever, and you’re too full of yourself to realize it’ll be the death of you.”

Adora manages a bitter laugh. Catra’s words have sliced deeper than any claw-marks. Hurt worse than any physical injury. “You think I want this destiny? I didn’t choose to be She-Ra. She-Ra chose me. I did what I had to do, because I was the only one who could. If I stand by and do nothing, people will die—”

“But what about you?”

Adora completely forgets her train of thought. Something in Catra’s voice has changed. It isn’t angry anymore. At least, not the same kind of anger and spite Adora has grown used to hearing these past three tumultuous years. Instead, her tone is almost pleading.

“What about Adora?” Catra asks. “Who saves her?”

Adora’s shoulders slump. She understands why Catra resents She-Ra and all the accompanying baggage. She might resent it too, if she let herself think about it for more than a moment… which is why she doesn’t. She has a job to do. A destiny to fulfill. A world—no, an entire universe—to save. She can’t afford to waste energy sulking, being afraid, or wondering what might be possible between her and Catra if things were different…

_ Wait, where did that thought come from? _

“You didn’t answer my question.” Catra closes the rest of the gap, putting a hand on Adora’s shoulder. The mere weight of her palm makes Adora’s knees feel weak. “Who saves you?”

Adora hangs her head. Her heart is beating much too fast, and she isn’t sure why her head is spinning. Is it fear? Guilt? Maybe it’s because Catra is standing so close, touching her without the intention of hurting her for once. In fact, Catra’s body language is almost protective.

“That’s what you don’t understand,” she murmurs. “I don’t matter. Not really. Not compared to all of Etheria—”

“Shut up,” Catra hisses, fisting the front of Adora’s jacket and yanking her in close. Close enough to feel the heat of Catra’s breath on her face. Close enough to see the wild, terrified look in Catra’s eyes. “Just  _ shut up  _ about sacrificing yourself, okay? It isn’t gonna happen. I won’t let it happen.”

Then Catra kisses her.

Adora’s mind is blown wide open.

Catra is kissing her.

Catra is kissing her?

_ Catra is kissing her. _

It’s everything Adora has always wanted, but never let herself imagine for more than a fleeting moment at a time, because the bittersweetness was too much to bear.

Every movement of Catra’s lips is so warm, so demanding, so desperate. It’s not just raw passion, although there’s plenty of that, too. Adora recognizes Catra’s desire immediately, inexperienced though she is, because she feels it too, burning deep in her belly.

But the other part? It’s terror. Fear that this is the only kiss they’ll ever share and tonight is the only night they’ll ever have. Again, Adora recognizes it because she feels it too. The mere threat of such a loss cuts as keenly as She-Ra’s sword.

By the time Adora summons enough coordination to return the kiss, Catra breaks away, panting hard and glaring at her as though she’s done something wrong. “If you don’t come back alive after whatever stupid heroics you have to do tomorrow, I swear I’ll kill you myself.”

Adora laughs, because what else is she supposed to do in response to a statement like that? “Okay, Catra.”

“You still don’t get it,” Catra says, shaking her head in disbelief. “I plant one on you, and you’re still as clueless as ever.” She squares her shoulders, as though preparing for some kind of battle. “Guess I’ll have to show you instead.”

Adora barely has a second to interpret  _ that _ statement before Catra walks her back into the nearest tree, pinning her there and kissing her even harder than the first time. She doesn’t resist, because why would she? Catra, her best friend, the person she loves most in the entire universe, is kissing her.

This time, Adora manages to kiss back. She isn’t sure what to do, so she copies Catra as best she can, tilting her head and parting her lips. When Catra’s tongue pushes forward, she brushes it with her own. Catra’s lean frame shivers against hers, and Adora swallows a groan as Catra’s teeth skate along her bottom lip.

_ Has she done this before, _ Adora wonders,  _ or is this something she’s only thought about doing with me? _

She’s never kissed anyone else. Not since she was little, anyway. She hasn’t felt the desire to. She never questioned her lack of interest in romance before, and she realizes why now. It was Catra. Always Catra. No one else can or will ever compare.

Adora doesn’t protest as Catra tugs her jacket open. She lets it slip from her shoulders, not caring where it lands. Catra stops kissing her, and she whimpers in disappointment until she realizes it’s because her shirt is being peeled over her head. Everything is happening so fast, but it feels so right. In spite of everything they’ve been through on opposite sides of the war, she trusts Catra completely.

A shiver passes through her body, causing her stomach to ripple as one of Catra’s palms slides up toward her breasts. The first brush of Catra’s fingertips against her nipple is like a jolt of lightning straight between her legs. Her hips jerk forward, rubbing against Catra’s hip.

This time, Catra is the one who shivers. Her slitted pupils dilate, taking up most of her mismatched irises, and Adora’s face burns as she realizes why. Just a few kisses and a brief squeeze of her breast, and she’s already hard. Catra’s lips and hands had her so distracted, she didn’t notice the swelling ache at first. 

It suddenly becomes all Adora can think about as Catra’s own hips push forward, giving her a surface to grind against. She bites her lip, averting her eyes, but Catra gives a soft moan of disapproval. “No. Look at me, Adora.”

Adora looks. Catra’s eyes are round and full of wonder, reflecting the faint moonlight filtering through the canopy of leaves. Her stare leaves Adora breathless. It makes her want to give Catra anything and everything.

“I want to touch you.” Catra squeezes Adora’s breast a little more firmly. “Can I?”

Adora nods. A nod can’t possibly communicate how badly she wants Catra to touch her, but it’s all she can manage. It’s enough. Catra cups her other breast and leans in to kiss her, kneading them in both hands as her tongue flicks out to tease Adora’s bottom lip.

It’s all so overwhelming that Adora doesn’t know what to do with her hands at first. Eventually, they settle on Catra’s rear, guiding their hips together in a slow grind. She has no idea what she’s doing, but it feels too good to stop.

Fortunately, Catra seems to have some idea of how things should go. She breaks away from their kiss, leaving Adora to whimper in disappointment until she realizes the reason. Catra is stripping off her shirt, revealing the upper half of her body.

She looks different than Adora remembers. Thinner. Skeletal, even. There are a few places where her fur grows in odd directions, breaking its flow. Adora’s heart clenches when she realizes what they are. _Scars._ _I probably gave her some of them._ She has countless scars of her own from her battles with Catra over the past three, but thinking about it in reverse hurts worse than any of them.

Catra notices, of course. She cups Adora’s cheek, running a thumb along its point. “Don’t beat yourself up. I made my choices, and I paid for them. I’m just glad they led me back to you.”

As always, Catra knows just what to say. Usually, Adora is the one who offers comfort to those she loves. To Glimmer, Bow, and everyone on Etheria in need of a hero. Even in childhood, she offered Catra shelter from the blinding, unforgiving light of Shadow Weaver’s judgment and her own self-hatred, keeping her safe in the dark beneath their bedcovers and in hidden corners.

But Catra does the same for her. She’s the one who always listened to Adora’s secret fears in the middle of the night. The one who stuck by her side and remained her best friend, even though Shadow Weaver’s unequal treatment could have easily torn them apart.

Hope wells inside Adora’s heart, warming her and warding off the midnight chill even more than Catra’s body heat. They’ve been through so much, but they’ve found each other again. Maybe it isn’t so crazy to imagine…  _ something… _ after the final battle against Horde Prime? Maybe there is a future waiting for them after all?

Catra drags her firmly back to the present with another kiss, slow and teasing. Adora loses herself in it, letting her hands roam Catra’s exposed back. Her fur is so soft, although it fluffs up a bit when she strokes against the grain. Eventually, one of her hands ends up in Catra’s choppy hair. She runs her fingers through it, parting her lips so Catra’s tongue can slip into her mouth.

At the same time, Catra’s hand unfastens her fly and sneaks into her pants.

Adora goes rigid against the tree, forgetting how to breathe. She whimpers into Catra’s mouth, trembling and unsure. She’s never done anything like this before, but she isn’t afraid—just nervous and really turned on. She throbs as Catra rubs the bulge in her underwear. The ache grows into sharp pressure.

“Don’t worry about it,” Catra purrs, pulling Adora’s underwear down to her thighs. “Just feel, okay? Let go for once.”

So she does. She lets go, leaning her head back against the tree trunk and closing her eyes. A smile spreads across her face as Catra takes her in hand, stroking slowly and with purpose. She keeps her breaths calm and steady as Catra squeezes, swiping a thumb over her sensitive tip, but her heart drums in overdrive.

“Warm,” Catra mumbles into her neck, teasing it with a swipe of hot, rough tongue. “You’re so warm, Adora. Soft and hard at the same time.”

Catra’s words are intoxicating, but it’s her voice that is Adora’s undoing. That low, coaxing, demanding voice, which Adora can’t help but obey. When Catra says, “It’s okay to come. I  _ want _ you to come,” Adora does without hesitation. She bucks into Catra’s hand, spilling all she has with a strangled sob.

Catra strokes her through it, whispering all the while. “Yes. That’s it. Come for me, Adora.  _ My _ Adora.”

Adora’s lashes flutter as she pulses in Catra’s palm. She wants to be Catra’s. Catra’s Adora. She wants—no,  _ needs _ a break from being She-Ra, hero of Etheria, savior of the universe. Being Catra’s Adora is so simple and freeing in comparison. So unbelievably right.

She comes until she has nothing more to give, still breathing heavily even after she stops throbbing in Catra’s fist. She’s left a mess on Catra’s hand, but she can’t bring herself to care. A sigh of relief escapes as she opens her eyes and shoots Catra an affection grin, only to realize Catra’s eyes are still alight with lust.

A different kind of need rushes over Adora then. Not the need to come, but the need to serve. To make Catra feel every bit as good as she just felt moments ago. Her pride will accept nothing less. She knows just how she wants to do it, too. “Let me taste you,” she begs, giving Catra her best pleading look. “I—I’ve imagined it…”

That much is true. She’s imagined it often, if only for fleeting moments, refusing to admit how deeply she longed to do just that. In the past, she almost managed to convince herself they were common, if intrusive thoughts. That everyone imagined sliding between their best friends legs and licking them into a frenzy. But, no. She knows better now.

_ It was always more, wasn’t it? How could I have been clueless for so long? _

Catra swipes the tip of her tongue over her upper lip. “You want to taste me?” She lifts wet fingers to her lips, pulling them into her mouth, and Adora feels another stab of desire in her core. She watches the show in awe, suddenly afire with the thought that Catra is tasting her, too. “Fine. But let’s lie down first.”

They lower themselves to the ground as one, reaching for each other as soon as possible. Once Catra is settled atop Adora’s discarded jacket and their rumpled shirts, Adora climbs over her, shivering as their bodies meet in a warm line. “This okay?” she asks, searching for any signs of doubt in Catra’s eyes.

There are none. Catra smiles up at her, wrapping both arms around her waist to stroke her lower back. “Get these off,” she whispers, tugging the waistband of Adora’s unfastened pants, “and get rid of mine while you’re at it.”

Adora hurries to obey. She shimmies out of her pants and underwear, bunched around her thighs and stained with evidence of her first release, kicking them hastily aside. Next, she peels down Catra’s leggings, adding them to the pile.

Once they’re both naked, Adora can’t help but stare in awe. What she can see of Catra’s lower half in the dappled moonlight is absolutely marvelous. Her toned stomach leads down to long, lean legs, which part to reveal the soft, swollen lips of her pussy. The outer ones pout open, while the inner ones gleam a beautiful, inviting pink.

“Well?” Catra’s tail flicks from side to side. “Don’t just look.” She crooks a finger, and Adora feels herself drawn in like a ship trapped in a tractor beam. She bends forward, taking Catra’s lips in a hungry kiss before descending the plane of her body.

She tries to take her time, but Catra’s thin, silky coat and the warm skin beneath are too tempting. She kisses along Catra’s chest, inhaling her warm, spicy scent.

“Fuck.” Catra rakes needy claws through her hair and along her scalp. “Stop teasing.”

Adora starts to protest, but Catra arches beneath her, pushing down on her head until a tight brown nipple grazes her lips. She needs no further urging. She draws the pebbled point into her mouth, swirling her tongue over and around. After that, there’s no holding back. Catra clutches her head in both hands, squirming in search of more.

Eventually, Adora has to seize Catra’s wrists and pin them to the ground on either side of their bodies. It’s the only way she can worship Catra’s breasts uninterrupted—and they deserve to be worshipped. Small and pert, but exquisitely sensitive, the sounds Catra makes as she sucks them send warm pulses straight between Adora’s legs.

She ignores her own need, focusing on Catra’s nipples until Catra wraps both legs around her waist and grinds against her stomach, painting a hot, wet line straight down the center of her abdomen. That wetness, that heat, reminds Adora of her purpose. Reluctantly, she releases Catra’s wrists and leaves her breasts, kissing down her stomach to duck beneath her knees.

Tasting Catra is better than any fantasy. Her scent is warm and inviting, her flavor salty and addictive. Adora licks her eagerly, unsure whether she’s doing it right, but too enamored to care. A dream she’d never dared linger on for more than moments at a time has finally become a reality. She could spend the rest of her life between Catra’s legs, worshipping her.

Catra isn’t so patient. She threads her fingers through Adora’s hair and tugs insistently. Adora does her best to keep up. She slides her hands beneath Catra’s backside, cupping both cheeks in an effort to keep her mouth where it’s needed most.

“Fuck, Adora,” Catra hisses, throwing her head back. “Your  _ mouth!” _

The needy rasp in Catra’s voice sends a pang between Adora’s own legs. She ignores it, focusing her attention on Catra’s clit. It’s swollen and firm beneath its hood, twitching as she swirls her tongue over it.

Catra stiffens. Her tail fluffs out, the muscles of her backside flexing in Adora’s hands. Taking that as encouragement, Adora doubles her efforts, drawing Catra’s clit between her lips and sucking firmly. Her reward is a sharp yowl. Catra’s claws rake her scalp and a gush of heat bursts against her chin.

Adora’s heart swells. The only thing better than coming for Catra is making Catra come for her. She does everything she can to extend her lover’s peak, softening the strokes of her tongue to light flutters. Catra bucks and squirms, but soon relaxes into the waves of pleasure. Adora feels it in the melting of her limbs. Hears it in her ragged pants of breath. Those breaths become interspersed with a soft, low vibration, and Adora smiles as best she can with her mouth busy.

_ Aww, she’s purring! Could she be any cuter?  _ Wisely, Adora keeps that thought to herself as she withdraws, scattering kisses over Catra’s trembling thighs. She knows Catra would be offended at being called cute, even if it’s true. “I could’ve done that forever,” she murmurs instead, resting her cheek on Catra’s lower belly. “You taste so good. It was too quick.”

Catra tucks her chin to her chest and looks down, mismatched yellow-blue eyes flashing with heat. “You don’t think we’re done yet, do you? ‘Cuz if I don’t feel you inside me in the next minute, I’ll flip you over and ride you.”

The mere suggestion sets Adora’s head spinning. Suddenly, she wants nothing more than to be buried to the hilt inside Catra. One side of her is frightened. She feels ashamed, unworthy of what Catra is offering. The other side is overwhelmed with joy. This is what she’s always wanted, even though she’d never had the courage to admit it before tonight. Before Catra took the first step and offered.

But Catra  _ is _ offering, and Adora can’t deny her. She kisses back up Catra’s stomach, pausing briefly to suck her nipples to straining points again before returning to her lips. Catra welcomes her mouth, sliding a tongue between her lips almost immediately. Adora can’t help but shiver at the thought that Catra is tasting herself while they kiss. Tasting the evidence of their shared pleasure.

Even though she’s technically on top, Adora lets Catra take control. She braces herself on her elbows, gasping as Catra slides a hand between them and wraps a gentle fist around her length. “I’m more than ready for it,” Catra mutters against her lips, still swollen from kissing. “So don’t worry about hurting me. Okay, dummy? I want you in me  _ so fucking bad.” _

Adora had intended to take things slow. To slide along Catra’s pussy, maybe, and get them both used to such intimate contact. She manages that a few times, but when Catra guides her in with a steady hand, she can’t help herself. She pushes forward, shivering as Catra’s warm, tight walls wrap around her for the first time.

It’s like sinking all the most sensitive parts of herself into a hot bath. Catra is so soft. So slippery. So perfect. Adora looks down to check for any signs of discomfort on Catra’s face, but her eyes soon flutter shut. There are too many wonderful sensations to process. She stops looking and focuses on feeling, groaning as Catra’s legs wrap around her waist, inviting her deeper.

“Fuck,” Catra pants, digging her heels into Adora’s lower back. “Adora, deeper!”

Adora obeys and thrusts deeper, the muscles of her rear tensing as she does. It’s a struggle to keep herself braced on her forearms, not because she lacks strength, but because it feels so good. Too good. Mind-numbingly good.

She forgets about Horde Prime. Forgets about her obligations. Forgets her fears and worries, until all she can think about is Catra. Just Catra. Catra, wrapped around her. Catra, urging her to move. Catra, raking unsheathed claws down her back. Catra, kissing her with tender ferocity.

_ I love Catra. It’s so obvious. Why didn’t I realize…? _

Joy floods Adora’s heart. It doesn’t matter whether or not she dies tomorrow. It doesn’t matter if Catra is or isn’t capable of loving her for a lifetime, or just for one night. Right now, in this moment, Catra is hers, and she is Catra’s. She will be Catra’s always, even after she’s gone. Not even She-Ra can take that feeling away. If she must sacrifice her life, this is her cosmic reward.

“Adora,” Catra whines, panting into her shoulder. Against her cheek. “Promise you won’t leave.  _ Promise.” _

“I promise,” Adora murmurs, even though she knows keeping such a promise is probably impossible. She’ll say whatever Catra needs to hear, even if it’s a lie. Even if it hurts worse later. “I promise not to leave.”

“Ahh-dora!” Catra arches, her lithe form going rigid, the muscles of her stomach flexing. Her eyes clamp shut and an open-mouthed smile spreads across her face, a look of bliss that melts Adora’s heart completely. Catra is coming for her. Because of her.

Then Catra’s inner walls ripple and squeeze around her, and she is lost. She tries to offer a warning. To hold off as best she can. Pull out, at the very least. But her peak takes hold despite her best efforts. When Catra whispers, “Come in me,” she can’t hold off any longer.

Adora has never come so hard, or so much, in her life. She shudders and spills, over and over, until it feels like her soul has departed her body. Her hips jerk out of rhythm, but Catra doesn’t seem to care. She rocks frantically, carrying both of them to greater heights. _ “Yesss. _ Adora. Fill me.”

Anything Catra wants, Adora will happily give.

She swallows Catra’s cries in her mouth, drinking from it as though dying of thirst, quivering each time Catra’s silken heat pulses around her. Only when she’s completely empty does she collapse on top of Catra, shivering as cold sweat evaporates from the base of her neck and the groove of her spine.

The happy rumble of Catra’s purr, which has continued all this time, grows noticeably louder. It vibrates gently through Adora’s body, slowing her heartbeat and steadying her uneven breaths. She’s heard Catra purr plenty of times in the past, but this is different. This is the first time she’s heard such a sound in three years.

_ Does this mean Catra finally feels safe with me again?  _ That’s a heavy responsibility, but one Adora welcomes happily. She wants to keep Catra safe, because Catra means more to her than anyone or anything else.  _ Everything except the entire universe… and only because Catra lives in it. _

Despair threatens to creep in, as it always does, but Catra chases it away with a loving smile. “I’m holding you to your promise, dummy,” she says, her voice cracking with emotion. Adora might be wrong, but she thinks she sees tears swimming in Catra’s gleaming eyes. “You’re stuck with me now. I won’t let you throw yourself into danger because you think it’s your destiny. Not alone, anyway. Got it?”

Tears well in Adora’s eyes. “Got it.” Catra is probably the only person in the world who cares  _ just _ about her. Not about She-Ra. Not about fate or destiny. Just her. Just Adora. Even Glimmer and Bow, as much as they love her, also have expectations for her. But Catra will always, always put her first. She hasn’t realized how much she’s needed that kind of acceptance these past three years until this very moment. Hasn’t realized how much she needs Catra.

She almost says, “I love you.” Almost admits it aloud. But decides that might be cruel, if she dies tomorrow. Still, she saves the words in case she makes it through tomorrow. She’s going to try her best. Because she promised. Because Catra needs her. Because Adora matters, too. Adora deserves a future, especially if that future includes Catra.

Instead, she asks, “Can we stay like this? Just a few more minutes? Please.”

“Yeah,” Catra says, tracing gentle fingers over the stinging scratch marks on Adora’s back. They don’t hurt at all. In fact, they make her feel wonderfully alive. “As long as you want.”

“Okay,” Adora says. It won’t be as long as she wants, because that would mean staying naked in the Whispering Woods forever, but she’ll take all the time she can get. She’s done denying herself. Done denying what she wants, and who she loves. She-Ra owes Adora this much. The Heart of Etheria can wait, because her own heart finally has what it needs.


End file.
